You're in my Head
by silent12reader
Summary: Quinntana Week 15 Day 1: Coincidence & Chance Meeting. Quinn's been to 'it's complicated'. She had enough of it to last a life time. She doesn't need Santana to just pop up pretty much everywhere and force her back to that 'it's complicated' bubble. Half canon – half AU. Santana just met Quinn in college.


**Imagine Glee (1-3) without Santana. (I know, it's sad. What's Glee without her insults and one-liners, right?). And then imagine Faberry** _ **actually**_ **happening as canon as possible – probably crossing over Brittana's plot in Season 2. (Don't stop reading yet)**

 **I'm NOT a Faberry shipper. I don't get that ship, (or maybe it's just Rachel). This is more on the plot leading to a** _ **possible**_ **Quinntana.**

 **Ps. Quinn wasn't supposed to be a surgeon, but I changed it because #!#$! #$ of Grey's Anatomy (cue hysterical tears). Let's pretend that Biff is Nate Archibald in Glee because really, what kind of social Elite would name their child Biff?**

 **Pps. OMG. I was supposed to be ready for Quinntana Week. But no, I didn't check what date it was until it's too late and I'm cramming. And I'm supposed to finish everything this weekend, but no, I'm up till 4am this morning because I was reminiscing #CamRen (from Fifth Harmony) and it's breaking my heart because that ship is so good to the point it just hurts. So I would try to post the other entries on time but idk. So yeah, this is not that polished. Not my favorite theme.**

* * *

Quinn doesn't know when or how everything got so complicated.

Okay, maybe she has an idea.

Seeing as she's a _Fabray_ —there's no denying it and when people see her that's the first thing they think of anyway—she's taken it upon herself to live as simply as humanly possible. Being a Fabray just comes with complications a mundane person couldn't even comprehend.

High school was another story. Losing her virginity on her boyfriend's bestfriend. Getting knocked up by said boyfriend's bestfriend. Disowned by her own father, and wasn't even spared a second glance by her mother at the process. Giving up her precious little thing after caring for it for over 9 months. Went back with a vendetta up to the throne at the social ladder. Realized her feelings for the school's biggest loser, who happens to be the captain of the Glee Club (if there's a category for people who get laughed at, thrown in the dumpsters, shoved at the lockers – they're below that, that's how much of a loser that club is) – oh wait, there's a catch, said loser is a _girl,_ and being raised in a devoted Christian family (and slightly dysfunctional) that she is, she can't accept that. Went through denial phase, because really, even if she's not exactly living up to a good-Christian role model, getting knocked up and all, she still has to at least pretend, right? _Cheated_ (again) on her current boyfriend with her ex-boyfriend, because with all this loneliness and repression, it is a justifiable act. Somehow managed to confess her secret feelings for the girl but she can't come out because she just needs a break from all this drama in school, okay? Said girl, can't understand that so she goes back to her boyfriend – who is Quinn's ex-boyfriend by the way, the guy she cheated with (still catching up?).

Then she had gone all rebellious phase: realized she finally had enough and just went all 'time-to-throw-my-life-to-waste' by dyeing her hair pink, smoking (possibly a joint), getting a weird Ryan Seacrest tattoo (because she can) and finally upping her act as a bully by not just verbally attacking someone, but joining a what would seem like a gang of punk girls who beat people up because it's _fun._

After some intervention and an actual interaction by a cute little angel from above (or from her womb, because it's her biological child so…) she had finally got her shit together and started fixing herself up. And in the process, winning her girl. _Her_ girl.

See? You look up the 'complicated' in the encyclopedia and she dares you, you'd see her face right then and there.

Now she's a senior—or is going to be, along with her friends _and_ girlfriend—and she has her own car—which she is painstakingly paying off—and a job (if you can call this a job) and life is good.

But fate has this weird way of working because on her senior year of college, she meets up with 'complicated' one more time almost slapping her with a face as if telling her, 'miss me, bitch? –xoxo, C'. She can get away from 'complicated' but 'complicated' will never get away from her.

Well, it was, and then Santana—Santana Lopez—the girl fate seems to be shoving into her life and made it so much… unpredictable. She doesn't know how it happened. One day she's listening to a first aid lecture at the university—she wants to be a _surgeon_ because really who wouldn't? She has the brains for it, and someday she could be saying, _'it's a good day to save lives.'—_ and _this_ girl just sits next to her, popping her bubblegum and whispering loudly if she has some paper because she wants to throw her bubblegum because she's not the type of girl who just sticks her bubblegum under the table because that's just… (the professor glares and keeps talking, ignoring them for the rest of class), and the next thing she knows she's _everywhere_.

She had always thought she's Rachel-sexual.

She had never found other girls attractive. I mean, maybe you can count the times that she held Celibacy Club meeting to train her cheerleaders how to be a big tease, as her checking other girls out. She had never experimented with her best friend Brittany, who is a pretty blonde, kind-hearted, and has really long – tempting soft-skinned legs. So really, it's just a Rachel thing.

Rachel is pretty—she's always been pretty, with her brown hair and shy smile and soft skin. She usually has this Showtime smile but _that_ shy smile… she knows it's only meant for her when her lips slightly turns upwards, and her eyes lights up at the sight of her. It doesn't matter when or how or what she's doing, if she's dancing, singing or practicing for an act – or she makes Quinn watch a musical she never even heard of, but Quinn likes it anyway because she becomes emotional and cuddles to Quinn more, and she brushes her hair softly at she listens to Rachel humming the songs softly.

Everything was okay, and then it suddenly just wasn't.

Everything got complicated, and Quinn Fabray, who tried to live the simplest life she could (even though her life was too complicated for even her to handle sometimes) just wasn't having it.

* * *

This is where it starts to get complicated.

Santana Lopez, feisty and driven, is the source of all the trouble she's had in the last week or two. Rachel doesn't like her and doesn't keep her resentment hidden. She says there's something rude about the girl, because she speaks even when not spoken to, she always has something bad to say (like Rachel's way of talking and her nose and height – which according to Rachel is not even remotely far from Santana's height) and she makes it seems like she's always the smartest person in the room even if she acts like she doesn't give a crap about the lectures.

(She would always borrow Quinn's notes, because she doesn't take one for her own – she has this amazing photographic memory - but whenever she returns her notes, Quinn would always find a doodle at the sides of the pages. And her handwriting of random things like, _'Is it weird that I find the rain soothing?',_ or _'I heard you humming on Hunt's lecture the other day. It's the only song that's been playing on my mind ever since and you're the only one to blame.',_ or _'I don't like cats. And the other day, I gave my breakfast—a French toast to this yellow-ish feline just because I can. And now it's like, living outside my apartment waiting for me.'_

They've never really talked for more than one sentence to each other. Usually, 'I need your notes on…' is the start of the conversation and it ends with, 'I'll see you around, blondie.'

They've never talked in person, but Quinn seems to know random stuff about Santana from the notes she leaves for her. Sometimes it feels like a coincidence. Because there are days that Quinn wanted to talk to Santana but she doesn't know what to talk about. And then she opens up her notes and finds herself looking for new markings. And sometimes, she'd rather watch Santana doodle to her right, but she forces herself to take notes because she thinks that if she doesn't write anything then there's nothing for Santana to borrow.

"I think she's feeding off from you." Rachel grumbles on the way home one afternoon.

Quinn raise her brow at this.

"Why is she even attending class if she's not even listening to your lectures?"

"She does." She knows she does because sometimes she hears Santana explaining a certain topic when Quinn feels like she doesn't understand what her professor is talking about. And she does it to a manner Quinn understands easily, even before she could ask for her help.

" _It's your head."_

" _What?" Quinn asks as she blinks, turning hesitantly to her right. She has to double check if Santana is talking to her._

" _You tilt your head when you don't understand something."_

 _Quinn doesn't know what to say because she doesn't know that Santana could read her. She doesn't even know about that herself. And does that mean…_

" _Yes, I'd rather watch you than stare at his face." She points her head to the direction of their professor who doesn't seem to notice them. "Don't worry. I'm not a creeper or anything."_

 _She waits for Santana to elaborate but Santana turns her attention back to_ her _notebook, and resumes her drawing of a… girl who is walking down a path to the bottom right of her page._

 _Quinn shakes her head and forces herself to look back in front to stare at the presentation. But all she could think of is how Santana is probably watching her and it made her feel conscious. Which is weird. Because she had been used to people watching her every move._

"It's weird." Rachel begrudgingly says as she looks away from Quinn.

"It's nothing," Quinn insists, but something about her silence makes her think she doesn't believe her. She doesn't think very much of it, even though she knows silent Rachel is scarier than ranting Rachel. Santana is some random classmate she has whose she's probably never going to meet again after this semester. Rachel is her girlfriend – the woman who she's madly in love with, mind you.

* * *

Little things that Santana does make her wonder if Rachel's resentment has any solid ground to stand on after all.

For example—today, when Santana just comes into her and Rachel's spot in the courtyard. There was an awkward silence and she could feel Rachel's body going rigid at the sight of her but she tries to calm her down by squeezing her shoulder and giving her a kiss to her temple. It does not have its usual effect. Rachel watches her sullenly, tapping her foot impatiently against the grass as she picks at her salad. Before Rachel could tell her off, Mercedes (bless her), greets her. It turns out that they have some common grounds, and the first time they met (because of Quinn), they immediately clicked. Which made Quinn question how Santana could easily have a casual conversation with one of her friends, than with her. They've been seatmates all semester maybe in two-three classes but they weren't even considered as friends.

"Fabray, you're still coming on the trip this Saturday, right?" Santana asks after her conversation with Mercedes, checking her phone one more time then she looks at her in a way that makes it seem like Rachel isn't there at all.

"Um… " Rachel digs her nails into her thigh, a small frown her face as she winces. She shoots her a look. "I—er—uh—yes," she stammers.

Mercedes looks at her in question and Santana drinks from cup of coffee and wipes the corner of her lips as she looks her right in the eye, and even though Rachel's trying to rip out a chunk of her leg with her nails, her mouth still goes dry. "I'll be there, probably."

If Rachel doesn't rip a limb off her first, that is.

"See you later, Fabray," she says with a smile, laughing as she walks out.

She thinks it's okay and doesn't think anything of it and since Rachel doesn't say anything at the apartment later either she thinks it's not a big deal at all.

"She winked at you," Rachel says when they were in bed and ready to go to sleep.

"Who?"

"Santana Lopez," she hisses, and it's almost like she's jealous. But she's not, right? It's not like she has anything to be jealous of.

Does she?

"She wasn't."

"But she was."

* * *

Thursday is even worse.

It was raining. And she hates raining, because she usually forgets her umbrella and she could almost see Rachel smirking at her when she comes home with a towel and hot tea and some cute almost smugly 'I told you it'll rain.' And she doesn't have her car because Rachel needs it today. She has some big show she needs to prepare and she needs all the convenience, Quinn can offer.

So she waits, and waits, hoping the rain would subside. Instead she hears a thunder, and she swears it almost feels like the universe is mocking her. She has to study for a big test tomorrow and she doesn't feel like she's ready yet so she really has to go home and—

She sees Santana _dancing_ in the field.

And it's crazy, and no one in the right mind would want to be drenched in this rain. Because it's scientifically proven there's a high chance you'd get a cold. And when you want to be a surgeon, you certainly don't want to get sick, especially when there's big test tomorrow and you really just want to go home.

But she stops, and she sighs and it almost feels like it's the first time she's seeing Santana. It's weird… and terrifying. Because it's _exactly_ what she felt the first time she sneaks into the auditorium that junior year and _hear_ Rachel sings her heart out.

She wants to looks away. She does.

But she can't.

Because Santana dancing in the rain is _breathtaking._ It looked _fun_ and thrilling and she _almost –_ almost takes a step towards her, but she stops herself because No. She's not going somewhere to the point of no return.

She wonders if Santana is psychic, because she sees Santana noticing her, waving at her, and then before she knows it, walking towards her. _Not a good sign._

She takes a deep breathe.

She's face to face with Santana, and she can finally see her chocolate brown eyes.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"What are you still doing here? Don't we have a qualifiers tomorrow? Shouldn't you be burying your face to—"

She doesn't hear the next words because she's staring at her lips. _Not a good sign either._ It's wet, and it's moving and she wonders—

Snap snap.

She looks back at her eyes and feels her cheeks burn up.

Santana, to her surprise, just laughs.

"I'll take a shower, you'll wait for me. And I'll drive you to your apartment."

Quinn was about to protest but Santana's already walking towards the gym, while slightly shaking her head.

* * *

They _didn't_ drive towards her apartment because the road is blocked because out of all the days, there's been an accident. And the traffic is just so heavy, Quinn was almost tempted to walk home but she doesn't because the rain isn't stopping.

So Santana suggests that they wait at her apartment because it's nearer, and so Quinn could actually study as she waits for the rain to stop.

Quinn sees nothing wrong with it so she agrees, not before shooting Rachel a text that she's having a group study with her classmates. Rachel knows Santana doesn't go to group studies, so it's okay. And Quinn doesn't know why she's lying – or omitting the truth to Rachel. She blames the _cheating_ genes in her body. It's a force habit she says to herself.

They reach Santana's apartment and indeed she noticed the cute (dare she say) feline at Santana's doors, who looked up to Santana when she opens the door. She watches as the cat welcomes itself inside and went straight to the living room? as if the cat lives in the apartment.

"Is that…?"

Santana chuckles as she goes straight to the kitchen, "Yes. I still don't like her. And I don't think she likes me either. But we had learned to co-exist."

Santana motions for her to sit in the couch and she did. She studies the pictures at her living room. It's only pictures of her and her dad, Dr. Carlito Lopez. Everyone knew him in the medicine world because he had won two Harper Avery Awards, a living legend. Of course it also what helped put Santana's name on the map. When you're a daughter of an award-winning surgeon, people expect something you to be nothing but excellent. Then there's pictures of her and a blonde good-looking guy in London and Paris.

It must have been her boyfriend.

Quinn frowns.

Suddenly she felt like going home.

Santana comes with a hot choco and goes to sit across her even though there's big seat next to Quinn.

"You live alone?"

Santana gets comfortable on her chair and nods her head.

Quinn doesn't know why she asked. Of course with Santana's family background, she knows she could afford this on her own. Quinn too, but her dad is a hypocrite and douche so the last thing Quinn wants is to ask him for anything.

Quinn doesn't know either but she still asks anyway, "I saw a picture of your boyfriend and I just thought you two live together."

Santana seems amused by this as she sips on her own hot choco. She gently puts the cup on the table without removing her gaze on Quinn. She laughs softly, "That's Nate, my person, not my boyfriend. He's in Columbia just because he wanted to prove he can _be someone_ without the help of his grandfather."

He's her person not her boyfriend? What does that even mean?

Quinn sees something in her eyes as she speaks of this Nate. Not love, but admiration.

Quinn thought it was only being polite, so she asks more of this Nate.

She and Nate would go out to parties, get drunk, get high, and just be wild when they were younger. 'turns out, they had traveled across Europe before Santana decided to go to Med School. Something about Santana's voice tells Quinn that she doesn't wanna talk about it more so she asks what topic Quinn wanted to review and Santana would help her study it.

Quinn envies this from Santana. She could easily study and understand something once she had read it. However, Quinn doesn't process information like that. She learns more when she sees how it's done, or experience it itself.

So Santana shows her videos of her dad performing surgeries.

Quinn thinks it's a privilege.

And she almost felt guilty enjoying watching this boring procedures rather than Rachel's musicals.

* * *

Wednesday is a blur of Santana—always Santana—and Rachel yelling at her—"She wants you! And the worse thing is you might want her back!"

Rachel found that on Quinn's notes were not only Santana's random doodles and quotes, but _also_ Quinn's.

Quinn thought they had bonded over the last time and it feels right to finally respond to Santana's notes. Santana was surprised when she returned Quinn's notes last Saturday but didn't say anything, just smiled differently.

Quinn insists Santana already has a person.

And Rachel just looks at her like that doesn't solve anything. "The appropriate response for that is denial of said assumptions and reassurance of your love _for me._ " And then walks out, and slams their bedroom door.

When Rachel gets mad, she won't say anything for a while—and then she'll rant, and cry. Sometimes she wants to rant and rave and throw things and sometimes she just wants to be left alone and sit and stew in her anger—and eventually she gets over whatever it is that made her angry.

She'll let it build and fester and bubble and boil over until it just gets to be too much and she explodes, and Quinn will, without fail, make the mistake of thinking nothing's wrong when everything is actually very, very wrong.

So on Wednesday night, on the way home from what has been a trying day—what with trying to keep Santana at arm's length while at the same time trying to keep Rachel from tearing Santana to shreds—while she broods silently, Quinn should assume that she's not just tired—when was she ever tired?—and that she is, instead, upset. Quinn doesn't ask when she storms in icily, slipping out of her shoes and kicks them sullenly into a dark corner, doesn't question it when she grabs a bottle of wine that they keep for special occasions — and drinks the glass she filled in one go before pouring herself another one, and she doesn't even bat an eye when she drags her to their room and keeps her up for half the night, for a marathon of hot sex.

* * *

It's a Sunday, and Quinn and Santana had arranged they go on runs together because they both run in the morning, so it'll be cool to finally run with someone.

Quinn hopes to sneak out of bed without Rachel noticing, but she should know better, because she's always three steps ahead of her, always, and she always knows what she's going to do before she even does it. She thinks she's being sneaky. She's snuck into the shower and brushed her teeth and fixed her hair and she thinks she's just so damn slick, but she should know better by now.

She doesn't turn on the lamp because she doesn't want to wake Rachel up, which means she has to forage for her clothes in the dark. It's a disaster, and when he stubs her toe on the damned dresser, he knows he's a goner. The lamp clicks on and she's sitting there, arms crossed over her chest—covering her naked chest, she notes sadly—as she looks at her with the telltale frown that lets her know she's in some serious trouble.

"Morning!" Rachel says stonily — and she looks like she's only seconds away from pouncing on her and tearing her into pieces. She's only been up for forty-five minutes at most and she severely doubts she really could have done much damage in such a short time, so what's the problem?

"Oh, er, hi." Quinn laughs nervously, trying to tread carefully. "You're up early."

"So are you." She's biting the corner of her lip and shaking—she's fuming, and for once, she's actually scared. She should be, because Rachel looks scrawny and she's a good head taller than she is, but beneath all of that is a very feisty girl, and she knows that better than anyone. "What are you doin' up so early?"

"I'm going for a run." She turns around and busies herself with finding some underwear, but she can still feel her eyes boring into her back as she pulls them up her legs. Rachel clears her throat loudly, so Quinn turns around, drying off her hair and face. "Yes?" Quinn is nervous because she can't even admit the truth to herself anyway. (It might have something to do with Santana. Maybe. She doesn't know anymore.)

"It's Sunday, Quinn. You don't run on Sundays."

"I just feel like refreshing myself a week after-"

"You _don't_ run on Sundays, Quinn." Rachel laughs—not out of amusement, but because she's caught her in a lie (she's so good at that)—and she pulls a shirt over her head quickly. She gets out of bed. The shirt she's wearing ghosts the middle of her thighs, and she almost lets herself get distracted but she has to keep her wits about her, because an angry Rachel—so early in the morning, especially—is something to be feared. "Because it's _our_ lazy Sunday mornings. Especially not after last night." She peers up at her through narrowed brown eyes.

They had lots of sex last night because these past few weeks is full of sex and hot make out sessions because jealous Rachel is hot and turning her on, but mostly because it feels like it's the only thing distracting them from the 'complications' caused by one Latina.

It breaks her heart because one moment, Rachel is glaring at her and the next thing, she's silently crying.

She shoves her a piece of paper from Quinn's notebook to Quinn's chest. Quinn looks at the piece of paper and her first reaction is to be mad at Rachel because that her _notes_ on subarachnoid hemorrhage. And then she noticed that it was also the page where Quinn and Santana exchanged notes.

It was all innocent. It's not like Rachel caught her flirting with her.

But to Rachel, it's always the little things that matters.

It's how Quinn tells Santana about her favorite book, or how it's okay to talk about rare surgeries like it's the most casual topic in the world, or if it's running or walking on a pouring rain would make you wetter.

How does she explain it? Santana—Santana—is a bitch. And she sometimes answers back to her professors because they all expect her to be flawless, and calls her an insufferable know-it-all when she answers all of their questions correctly. It's frustrating because she always has to live up to expectation yet she can't seems to please everyone, she says. Santana doesn't have many friends. She only has _Nate,_ and he's far away, and Quinn thinks it's sad how Santana is always looking at her phone. Or how she's always alone when she sees her.

Santana's parents had a divorce when she was young and her father had won custody. Santana's not exactly thrilled with that because her dad is married to his work. And he's a very hard man to live with. Santana doesn't like to be a doctor, but when you're the only daughter of a living legend surgeon, you kind of doesn't have a choice.

Santana _is_ complicated. And she doesn't understand her sometimes. But it's okay. Because Quinn is used to complicated.

Santana needs a friend, or someone to talk to, at the very least. And Quinn's that friend, because she knows what it's like to belong but not really, to be the one whispered and talked about and treated like dirt for something you couldn't quite help. And so they talk, a lot, kind of, but it's innocent — and it's not like she likes her anyway. Santana is a bitch and distant but she's not cold. Quinn thinks it's because she was basically deprived of any sort of meaningful social interaction growing up. She rarely smiles, but when she does, it's warmth and kind, and it makes you want to do literally anything just to see it again.

It's not a big deal. She's grown fond of Santana, but only because she sees so much of herself in her. Quinn just doesn't tell Rachel because she knows she'll freak out and find Santana and Santana will have a very interesting accident with some sort of sharp object that Rachel will mysteriously know nothing about. She's crazy sometimes.

"Quinn!"

"It's nothing!" she exclaims.

"Don't lie to me." She turns away from her, shaking her head. "Don't you dare stand there and lie to me! Not now, not like this!" She opens her mouth to say something, but can't because she doesn't give her the chance to and she doesn't really know what to say regardless. "I'd pick my words carefully if I were you, Quinn."

"I—" She sighs. "Santana needs someone—"

"Santana," Rachel laughs bitterly. "Oh, we're not on Lopez-Fabray anymore, huh?" She nods. "Santana _always_ needs something from you huh? She can't copy her own notes. She writes on your own. She's a freaking daughter of Cardio-god or whatever, so why won't she just go to her dad and stop clinging to you? Really? You're messing around on me with Santana Lopez?!" Rachel whips a hairbrush that catches her right in the shoulder blade before she even knows what's going on. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"What?! I'm—what?"

"Don't play stupid, Quinn. Don't. I can't believe you." Rachel shakes her head, her brunette hair starting to come loose from the bun on her head.

"Why are you so upset?"

"I'm not upset. Do I look upset to you?" She narrows her eyes at her, fuming. "I'm just wondering why Santana Lopez is leaving notes on my girlfriend's notebook like it's high school all over again and I have to compete from people in your world" She shrugs flippantly, pulling her hair over her shoulder. "What?"

"People of _my world?"_ Now Quinn is agitated. What does that even mean?

"It's always been like this Quinn. You… you make me feel like you've always been out of my league and I _can't reach you and—"_

"Oh my god," she groans.

"What?"

"You're being unreasonable to the point that it is me who can't reach you!" Rachel is about to protest but now Quinn just had enough. "I got into Stanford but chose to study here to be close to—"

Quinn sees her hand this time, but can't even move out of the way, Rachel's hand colliding harshly with her cheek.

"Don't you even dare!"

Quinn's cheek stings.

"I didn't ask you to move in with me. You know I would never do that. You know I would never… and you… you're waiting for me to pay up in this grand sacrifice that you did and you just want to make me feel guilty because I'm reaching for my dreams and you're stuck with a second-rate.—"

"You know what, _now,_ I _definitely_ need a run." Quinn says, shaking her head as she walks out of the room.

The only way to tell that Rachel is really mad is when she cries. If she's so mad that she's crying, that's it. There's no hope left—you've hurt her too much. And Rachel's a fighter, strong and brave. But right now, Quinn's crying too.

She usually doesn't cry unless she's really sad and hurt or angry, or both. And when she starts tearing up and sniffling and blinking her green eyes quickly.

She hates it when they're fighting. It's been so long since they had fight like this. A real fight. Not just a 'you forgot to do the dishes' kind of fight.

Before she leaves, she calls Mercedes and tells her to go to their apartment because Rachel needs her.

* * *

Quinn is waiting on their meeting place. She doesn't feel like running because she just wants to throw plates and smash it against a wall. She thinks she might invite Santana to do just that. She nods and decides that's their plan for the day and Santana wouldn't mind.

But an hour passed and Santana isn't there. Quinn spends it brooding and trying to call Santana, only to get her voicemail repeatedly.

Quinn is only trying to be Santana's friend because she needs someone. And she doesn't like Santana like that. It's only because she's been there, and what made Quinn through high school is glee club, her friends, and especially Rachel. And Santana doesn't have that so…

Another hour passed and Santana is still not there and Quinn gets worried because it's unlike Santana to ditch her and not say anything about it.

Quinn hails a cab and goes straight to Santana's apartment, but there's still no answer.

* * *

She hasn't heard from Santana for a week.

And that pisses her off more.

Because Rachel and her are on the rocks because of Santana, and she's not even anywhere to be found. She had been _everywhere_ for the last months and now she just disappeared.

She tries to ask around but no one knows where she is because she doesn't make a lot of friends. And they all think they're better off without Santana to bite their heads off.

She doesn't want to ask Mercedes because she knows Mercedes is already in between Rachel and her.

It's not a big deal because Santana is a pretty private person sometimes but Quinn thought she'd at least get a text telling her that she's alive somewhere and she just have some important stuff to deal with. Right? Quinn doesn't know anymore.

* * *

On the night of Quinn and Rachel's anniversary, Quinn receives a message.

 **I'm outside your apartment.**

She doesn't know what to do. Because she and Rachel just got home after an amazing day and everything feels right again, and Santana just had to tell her that she's back…

And really.

What are the odds that it's raining so hard right now?

She silently looks outside her window and indeed Santana is there, without an umbrella waiting outside her doorsteps, and she's not looking up.

Suddenly, she feels panic in her heart. She doesn't know why but she feels it.

Without another word, she runs outside, not before grabbing an umbrella. She still doesn't like the rain.

She sees Santana looking down the ground. Only when Quinn was standing close to her did she look up. And instead of bliss and excitement, she saw pain and sorrow, she's crying too. Or was that the rain?

Without another word, Quinn wraps her arms around Santana.

Santana didn't hug her back, but she hears a faint sound of sobbing.

Quinn hears Rachel yelling a frustrated, 'What the hell is going on…', yet Santana stayed still.

* * *

It turns out Santana's dad is dying.

She says she had seen this coming when her father's Alzheimer's was getting worse.

She's crying and laughing while she paces around their living room. She thought Rachel would've made a scene, but no, Rachel is right there, by the kitchen counter silently watching the two girls.

"He doesn't want anyone to know. Because before Alzheimer's eats him away, his last concern was how people sees him. The Cardio-god who had won not one, but _two_ fucking Harper Avery's. Do you know how frustrating that is? Do you know how fucking selfish that is?"

Quinn stays seated at the couch as she follows Santana with her eyes.

"I am like _this_ because of him. I am emotionally fucked up because of him."

Rachel brings her tea... and Quinn's jaw just hit the floor because a week ago, Rachel was wishing Santana the world's greatest misfortune, and now she's serving her tea to calm her nerves. She can't tell Rachel, Santana prefers hot choco. She can't ask Rachel what in the world is she doing when she sits next to her as they both follow Santana's movement who doesn't seem to notice they're in the same room.

"I graduated _first_ in my class, and I didn't even want to get a PhD. I did it for him, and he didn't even go to my graduation. Honestly, he had never been to any of my graduations because as he said, _I gave you everything... Everything that you have. From your name, to the clothes you wear, the food you eat, the roof over your head, the money in your pocket. The least you could do is not drag my name to shame.'_

Quinn doesn't know what to say. She thought of saying, I know how it feels. But base on her experience, _that_ is not soothing at all. Quinn looks over to Rachel and for the first time she feels her eyes soften.

"This year I'm getting my MD so I can shove it in his ass and tell him that I'm halfway there. Halfway into finding a cure to Alzheimer's so I can finally tell him, that I hate him, and that I'm done with him. The he's...-"

That she loves him. That she's someone important to him. That she'd rather stand by him beside the O.R. than watch videos of him performing surgeries.

"-And he doesn't get to tell me what to do all my life, so just he could leave me behind. I get to tell him that, and then he'll fucking remember."

And then the two of them can start over again.

Quinn doesn't know _how_ but she knows she can hear Santana's words, but understand it differently.

When Santana was done ranting, they let her sleep on their couch. She pretty much had cried herself to sleep.

She receives a call on Santana's phone from Nate and she answers.

"Can you look out for her? She talks about you a lot and I don't know you but... she's been crying for a week and I don't think that's normal. So can you just... Can you just make sure she doesn't do anything stupid?"

Quinn says she'd try her best. But really, how can you promise something like that?

That night, Rachel hugs her from behind.

Rachel tells her how now she understands why Quinn is fond of Santana. Because Santana is just as broken as she was. Quinn doesn't understand, because that's just half-truth.

* * *

Santana comes back to school the next day like she didn't just spent the night ranting on her living room.

She was busy for the whole week catching up on everything. She didn't tell the faculty about the reason why she was absent, because even though she hates her father, still at that moment, she will _not_ drag his name to shame.

Also, Santana becomes distant again.

She continues to borrow her notes, but she stops hanging out with Quinn outside classes. They study together, but she doesn't joke around her anymore.

* * *

On their graduation, Santana was first.

Quinn had seen it coming. Rachel thought Santana would've been at least distracted, but if not more, Santana was determined and competitive.

Santana pulls her aside at their after party, it surprises Quinn because it's been so long since they had an actual conversation.

Before she could say anything, she feels Santana's lips on hers, and she was frozen in her spot.

What just happened?

My pulse quickened instantly although I tried my best to remain stoic.

Santana pulls away and her eyes were hooded. "I've always wanted to do that." She said without backing off and still staying extremely close to Quinn.

"I could've been in love with you." She says. Those words hit Quinn like a ton bricks. Her lips parted slightly in shock and her green eyes seemed to burn a hole into those big brown ones.

"But every time I come close, I stop myself." Quinn's head felt like it was about to explode and she wasn't sure whether or not she was ready for whatever Santana was telling her right now. The genuine confusion showed on her face which made the woman in front her chuckle lightly. Then she finally steps back and leans on the wall of the really narrow hallway. "You're like... a breath of fresh air. And I was drowning and you... you're right there."

Her voice was careful and gentle and it was clear she knew Quinn well enough to be delicate about the subject; otherwise she'd shut down. Quinn didn't know how to answer her.

"But you're not... we're not for each other, aren't we?"

Quinn sighed lightly and seemed unsure whether or not she should answer. How can anyone even answer that? Santana just sprung this up on her out of no where and just...

"I could blame it on my abandonment issues. I could blame it on my father. I could blame it on you having a good girlfriend who loves you so much, and whom you love just as much. Or I could just blame myself for not trying hard enough."

"Santana-"

"No. Don't. I'm not here to tell you that I have these secret feelings for you, and that you should give me a chance. We both know it's a little too late for that."

She pushes herself against the wall so now she's in the middle, and she's giving Quinn this weird smile.

"This... This is my closure. And I needed to say that. I needed to do that."

Quinn wants to ask why this feels like a goodbye. Why it feels like Santana is walking away from her. And most importantly, why she's doing this now.

"I'm a runner, Quinn. I run when something scares me... and you... you scare me. And you don't need that."

"So you're running? That's what this is?"

"No. This is me telling you that there was a point that you looked at me and you tilt your head, and you were one step close to asking me if there was ever a chance between us, if our relationship is something more than platonic, if those notes meant something more, or was that you reading too much between the lines. And this is me, telling you that yes, there was a point that I looked at you and I wished I could've said something, I wished there was something more. I looked at you and I saw a chance but I didn't take it."

Santana's lips already forming a smile, she suppressed her laughter because Quinn still looked at her intently.

"I've always been running. And this time, I turned around, and came back. Maybe it's not always about winning."

* * *

 **The last part doesn't make sense doesn't it? and it should be illegal to do an angst on Quinntana Week because it's a week of pure paradise of Quinntana sweet loving. I try to do better on my other entries. I might continue the one with the highest number of request for follow-up. (Does that make sense?) Because I would like to get on with This Time Around first, before I torture you with a lot more teasing.**

 **Thoughts?**


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